Bhaktapur City, the dictionary episode and life on the street in Nepal, Nagarkot and the end of our trip to the roof of the world, Namaste!

View of Bhaktapur

Hi again

Today, Saturday 10th Jan, was our last full day in Kathmandu. Tomorrow we are returning to Delhi and on Monday night we are flying back home. Half of me wants to stay and the other half is looking forward to going home. But I know I want to come back to this part of the world again.

This morning Mr. Lama was duly waiting for us to show us more of Nepal. We drove to the beautiful town of Bhaktapur. It is the 3rd largest town in the Kathmandu valley and was once the capital of Nepal in the 15th century. Known as the town of “devotees” it is well known for its traditional art and architecture, historical buildings, wood carvings and of course, its temples. I read that it had been partially restored by a German NGO and definitely it is very clean, apart from the dust that comes from the pottery making.
Eladio and I in one of the squares of Bhaktapur. They are all very similar.
Eladio on a rooftop café in Bhaktapur
It is full of squares, one being Durbar, of course and in these squares you find the typical pagoda temples and monuments all built by the traditional red brick. The woodwork is magnificent. I was specially struck by this 15th century “peacock” window. It is a true work of art.
15th century carved wood window with a peacock in the middle.
There were also excellent souvenir shops and stands all over the town and we shopped happily for things that seemed authentic or at least we hadn’t seen elsewhere. It’s a pleasure to see so little globalisation. Here we bought some wood carvings for our walls at home, one of a dragon which apparently will help to protect our house. The other was of Om the sacred symbol in Hinduism for Brahman, the unknowable, and which has its origin in the Sanskrit language, the mother of the Hindu languages.
The Om symbol
Me in Bhaktapur in front of a marvellous wooden carved door and 2 magnificent lion statues
But apart from monuments, Bhaktapur was a window of Nepalese town life for me. Here I snapped happily at the street markets everywhere at the people washing clothes and washing themselves for all to see in the street and at lovely little corner shops that seem timeless. There are no supermarkets here. We felt as if we were in a film, floating on clouds.
A chemist shop in Bhaktapur, isn't it just something? I took this for my pharmacist friend in Madrid, Mari Carmen.
People washing themselves in public in Bhaktapur
People washing clothes in the street in Bhaktapur, a very common scene.
We were constantly harangued by people to buy bric-a-brac which we did at times. Then I was joined on our walk through the town by 2 little boys aged 11 and 12. They were brothers. One was called Vijay and I can’t remember the name of the other. They were eager to practise their English and I was quite impressed. They told me London was a lovely town. So I agreed. Then Eladio was joined by another little boy and we all engaged in conversation. I was expecting them to ask for money but this time was different.

Vijay shyly asked me whether I would buy him and his brother a book for school. At first I resisted but not for long. He took us to a bookshop and pointed at a Nepalese English dictionary. How could I resist? Eladio couldn’t either and so there on the spot we bought two very good quality hard backed dictionaries, one for the two brothers and one for the other boy. They could hardly believe their luck and we were delighted too. As they thanked us, I asked them to study hard with the aim of one day going to England to study. We probably behaved like proud well off people happy to do a good deed but that wasn’t my objective. I took a photo too of the boys, perhaps to remember my good deed but actually to remember their thirst for knowledge which I thought was admirable in their very humble circumstances. How many 12 year old European children would ask for a bilingual dictionary? Not many I guess.
The three boys in Bhaktapur with their new dictionaries.
From the charming town of Bhaktapur we took the road into the mountains which would take us to Nagarkot, a small town from where, fog and clouds permitting, we would get a glimpse of some of the highest peaks in the world. Nagarkot is about 35km from Kathmandu and is renowned for its wonderful views of the Himalayas. It stands at 2.195 metres and the road to it is beautiful with views of pine tree filled hills and sloped terrace cultivation of what must be wheat. We were not unlucky today as the visibility was acceptable and so we were able to clearly see some of the peaks, namely Mt. Langtang which is 7.234m high!
Eladio in Nagarkot with the Himalayan mountains behind, very impressive.
We had tea and something to eat at the Club Himalaya Nagarkot resort and then drove back to Kathmandu to relax at the lovely Dwarika hotel.

Tonight we celebrated our last evening here by going to a Nepalese folk restaurant called Bhojan Griha which apparently means House of Food. But it is much more than that. The restaurant is housed in an old Nepalese building and the dinner, all very ethnic is served on low tables with the same sort of ceremony we found on the first night at Krishnarpan here at the Dwarika hotel. Here we were served amongst other things, bara, lovely cakes made with black lentils and momo, sort of ravioli or meat dumplings. There was entertainment too with typical Newari and Nepalese dancing and music. It was an interesting evening.
Dinner at Bhojan Griha
Tomorrow we will be leaving this charming hotel and wonderful hospitable country to which we would dearly love to return. Here, as in India, we will put our hands together in the praying mode, nod our heads and say “Namaste”. Taken literally it means I bow to you. And so as I bow to the wonderful people I have met in Nepal and say thank you for everything.

Namaste

Masha.

Varanasi to Kathmandu, Santosh’s story, the subject of toilets, Nepal, the Dwarika Hotel, Mr. Lama, flight over Everest and getting to know Kathmandu.

Mountain flight over Everest this morning
Hi again,

This post covers Thursday and Friday 8th and 9th January, the 13th and 14th day of our fascinating tour.

Yesterday we had a luxury late wake up at the Radisson hotel in Varanasi. You could tell it was a Radisson but truth to tell it was a bit run down with rather old upholstery. We had a good hearty breakfast to last the day. On this trip we usually have a good breakfast and good dinner but more or less skip lunch or just have some fruit so as not to lose time during the day or eat too much. We travel such a lot by car that we are not exercising enough and are missing our one hour daily walk back home.

We were leaving for the final part of our trip, 3 nights in the remote and exotic country of Nepal, the roof of the world and the home of the highest mountain in the world, Mt. Everest.

We were picked up by Santosh our driver. I had a good long talk to him as I guessed he needed some mothering and I am always game for talking to the locals and finding out more about the country. Santosh who is a delightful, well mannered and well groomed young man has a difficult life and I felt for him. He is good at his job and has a great attitude, not like some of the guides we have met. He has so much talent and yet is in a catch 22 situation. He is from a humble village and had to leave school at the age of 10 when his Father died, to work and keep his Mother and fellow siblings. He would love to study but cannot afford it as his salary is very low (1.800 rupees per month (less than 40 euros per month!) and he has to keep his wife and children who live over 250km away and in order to get on in his job, he needs qualifications which, of course, he cannot get. It was very frustrating to hear. Furthermore he said he only sees his family once every few months because it costs 200 rupees to get to his village and 200 to get back. We went on to talking about mobile phones and cars, Indians’ favourite topics and he asked whether we had a BMW. I felt ashamed to tell him that not only do we have a BMW but that we actually have 4 cars! I promised to send him a mobile phone when I got back and only hope it will get to him. We gave him a tip to more than cover a journey back to his village and when we parted at the airport he had tears in his eyes, bless him. I wish I could help you more Santosh, you and many more people I have met in India.
Santosh
At the tiny airport of Varanasi we were met by hundreds of porters offering to carry our luggage. I made my way to a small kiosk outside to try and buy some chewing gum. I asked how much a tiny pack of Happydent cost and I was told 50 rupees but I must have been cheated blatantly as when I gave them a note of 100 they had no change. The same happened the day before in Varanasi when we bought a gaudy cheap calendar with the image of my favourite God, Ganesha. They charged 25 rupees and again had no change for 100.

The airport terminal was acceptable, not so the bureaucracy of the check in procedure, security and customs. Everything seems to be done more than twice. To top it all at customs we were told we could not take notes of more than 100 rupees (1.5 euros). We ended up having to change 18.000 into dirty and brittle 100 rupee notes and stuffing them into Eladio’s travel bag. They took up so much room! By the by we paid 720 rupees in commission. You get the feeling that wherever you go in India they try and make money out of you.

I must mention at this point, the subject of toilets as the experience at Varanasi airport is definitely worth mentioning. At the toilets you usually get given some very thin paper from someone standing outside, you go in, do what you have to do and then pay that person. Sometimes you even pay twice, the person outside and another one inside. At Varanasi airport there were 3 barefooted ladies in a tiny dirty loo. One offered to “clean” the loo seat I was supposed to use. She did so with the dirtiest looking cloth I have ever seen. And I was expected to pay her for this service!! Varanasi is meant to be the cultural capital of India. I think they have to introduce the culture of cleanliness. There is an English expression my Father used to tell me when I was a child and it is: “cleanliness is next to Godliness! It could be of great use in India but most turn a blind eye. I can’t. I can understand poverty but I cannot understand the extreme lack of hygiene.
The loo at Varanasi airport
Throughout our trip we have tried to go to the best toilets possible but that is not always easy. Thus you go to the best you can find or the only one. Most of the latter are quite dirty but tolerable. Often they are the stand up type which I hate and at the airport in Nepal today I even came across the stand up type which are open and are in a row. An Irish girl I met said she had seen many. I hadn’t so I took a photo. In fact Lou gave me the idea of starting to do “loo photography” on my travels and then put the photos in our bathrooms at home! I’m going to take her up on that and started the photography today as you can see. Nice eh? Apparently it’s hilarious when women are using them because you get to see 3 bottoms’ up!!
The open stand up loos, 3 in a row - Kathmandu airport!
Our flight on Air India was delightful, mainly because we were in Business Class. We weren’t expecting it; maybe the flight was nearly full when the travel agency made the reservation. We got a lovely Indian meal but best of all we got a glimpse of the Himalayan range of mountains including Mount Everest. So yes, we knew now that we had reached the roof of the earth and the top of the world, Nepal.

Nepal is a remote landlocked country in between India and China. In fact its capital, Kathmandu is 300km from the Indian border and 120km from the Chinese border (Tibet). It has a population of 29 million, the capital having 1.5m inhabitants. It is multi religious with over 80% being Hindus, over 10% Buddhists and the rest Moslems and Christians. Nepal is one of the poorer underdeveloped countries and ranks only 96 in the world. We noticed too that the light goes out frequently and there are great problems with running water.

Nepal now has a Moaist government but not so long ago it was a monarchy. However in 2001 the whole family was assassinated by one of the family members. Since then monarchy has been abolished in Nepal. Well I suppose there is no one left to carry on the succession!!

A silly observation of mine is that the Nepalese flag is the only non square flag in the world. Funny eh?

India is definitely a richer country than Nepal. However we were soon to notice that Nepal is slightly cleaner and that there is somewhat less misery here. The time difference is weird. It is 15 minutes ahead of India! It is obviously Winter now in Kathmandu but it was 18ºc at mid afternoon when we arrived. It gets cooler in the evenings and mornings when it is about 1ºc. Mt. Everest, though is 18º-c which is quite a difference.

We were met by Mr. Rajan Tuladhar from the travel agency and by Mr. Titendra Lama who was to be our driver of quite an old Toyota. We have ended up calling him Mr. Lama. He told us he was Buddhist and we asked him if he was related to the Dalai Lama which of course he wasn’t.

Mr. Lama told us that the village he was from stands at over 2000m2 and that it used to take 10 hours to walk to the nearest point of public transport. Today it takes a 5 hour bus ride and 2 hours on foot. While we were in Kathmandu his wife and 2 of his children were going there. He also told us his wife cannot read or write and nor does she want to! He excuses her by saying she is a "village girl". I told him this was no excuse at all. As we got to know him a bit more we asked him another burning question we had which was about arranged marriages. He admitted his was an arranged one and that today, at least in the cities, it was going out of fashion. I asked him whether he had been happy with his parents choosing his wife and he said "no". I asked no further questions.
Mr. Lama's wife
They drove us to the nearby Dwarika’s hotel and we soon realised we could not have made a better choice. We were given a very warm welcome with the offering of the Buddhist scarf, the "kata" which was put around our necks.

The Dwarika hotel is something special in Nepal, a garden or oasis with a cluster of traditional Newari (area of the Kathmandu valley) ethnic buildings separated by brick courtyards. Everything from the furniture to the atmosphere breathes peace, quiet, elegance and even romance. The rooms are decorated in the same style and absolutely everything has been made in Nepal.
A partial view of the Dwarika hotel
Ours is lovely, big, spacious, light and we adore the Newari style of stone floor, carved wooden furniture, ethnic cushions and low tables. The bathroom is big and similarly decorated with a sunken bath and wonderful kimono type bathrobe I shall be buying to take home. If anyone reading this is coming out to Nepal, then again I would urge them to come here. You won’t be disappointed. This place is absolutely authentic.
Our lovely room at the Hotel Dwarika
After settling in and as soon as we had freshened up, Mr. Lama drove us to the Tamel tourist district, a great place for shopping. First, however, we went with him to park the car near where he lived, just off the Tamel district. Here we met his wife and children who were playing in the street. They were very friendly and posed for pictures very spontaneously. I even got them to say “cheese”.
Mr. Lama, some of his children and their friends
The Nepalese look part Indian and part Chinese and this is certainly so of Mr. Lama. We actually think he looks like Mr. Tenzing, Edmund Hillary’s famous Sherpa. Mr. Lama is a very positive happy sort of person and extremely willing to please. I apologised for being late once and his answer was: “it’s my duty”. He meant, of course, it was his duty or part of his job to wait.

Mr. Lama took us shopping and not once did he take us anywhere he was going to get a commission and that was so refreshing. With him we enjoyed shopping for tiger balm against headaches for my niece Marta and I, for silver bracelets for the girls and for even more baggy trousers. We also got some lovely incense holders which I know we will enjoy back home.
Mr.Lama and Eladio buying tiger balm and other Nepalese things such as tea and curry.

In the evening we had dinner at the hotel but the dinner wasn’t just any dinner. It was really special. We went to the Nepalese restaurant called Krishnarpan. It has been frequented by the likes of Jimmy Carter and Hillary Clinton and really is the best you can find here. The whole experience was very enriching. First you walk in and you take your shoes off, then they wash your hands and afterwards you are lead into the dining room by a beautiful Nepalese lady in ethnic dress. You are lead to a very low and wide table and somehow get yourself into the chair. Next another beautiful Nepalese waitress puts a huge white bib around you and then the gastronomic feast begins. We went for the smallest menu of 6 Nepalese traditional dishes. You could have anything from 6 to 22 believe it or not. With the first dish you were supposed to take some food from you plate and leave it for the Gods! I happily removed the piece of egg I wasn’t interested in eating. The food was laced with rice licquer, a sort of saki. I loved it. The food was served on century old plates and bowls and beautifully served. It was one of the best dinners of our trip and again I highly recommend the Krishnarpan restaurant.
Eladio enjoying the Nepalese dinner experience on the first night.
This morning we were up really early at 6 to catch the 8 o’clock mountain flight over the Himalayan mountain range. We were worried the fog would be an obstacle and had heard from a Spanish couple in Varanasi that they hadn’t been able to fly. We were not sure ourselves until the very last minute. The plane was delayed for more than an hour but then finally we took off with “Buddha Air”. It was a 16 seater with each person having a window seat. There were actually quite a few flights, at least 9, going up at the same time. They were full of tourists like us and that was where we met Lou and Paul, a lovely couple who have been teaching English in China for the last year and who have been travelling extensively in India and roughing it from what I understood in our exchange of experiences. Lou is from Waterford in Ireland and Paul is actually from Sheffield. If you read this, hi, guys, it was good to meet you.

We finally took off on this very exciting flight and we were soon to see all the main peaks of the Himalayan range in Nepal, on the Nepalese side that is. Everest is best seen from China but we could not enter Chinese air space. Not only were we able to view the peaks from the window but each and every one of the passengers was also able to go up to the cock pit twice and take photographs close up. The one illustrating this post proves I saw Everest. As the certificate they gave us on completion of the flight says: “I did not climb Everest but I touched it with my heart”. The experience was one of the best of the trip so far, and was probably the third most exciting highlight together with the Taj Mahal and the Ganges at Varanasi. Wow is the best way to describe it.

The rest of the day was spent exploring Kathmandu and here we soon realised it was the temple centre of the world. First Mr. Lama took us to see the Boudhanath, one of the holiest Buddhist sites in Nepal. It is one of the most visited monuments in Nepal and a tourist landmark. It has the biggest spherical “stupa” in Nepal. I first came across this word at Sarnath in Varanasi and here it was again. It is, I think, a round structure which often holds religious relics. It is, of course, Buddhist.
The Stupa at Boudhanath
Here I also came across “praying wheels” for the first time and they are everywhere in all sizes, from hand held to any size. They are used to spread spiritual blessings and well being and are filled with rolls of many copies of the mantra (prayer) Om Mani Padme Hum. They are really beautiful and tomorrow I know I will buy one to take home and remember the Buddhist temples I have seen here.
Buddhist praying wheels.
From here we went to see the famous Hindu temple of Pashupatinath Temple on the shores of the sacred Bagmati river. Not surprisingly it is dedicated to Shiva as most Hindu temples seem to be. Here Hindus come at least once in their lives to purify themselves. Only Hindus can enter.
The Pashupatinath temple we couldn't go inside.
The river is sacred and flows into the Ganges. Here too cremations take place on the Arya Ghat and people bathe. We talked extensively to Mr. Lama and to a guide and heard that women, as in India, used to throw themselves on their husband's funeral pire in an act known as sati. Apparently they could not bear life without their husband but I think they probably could not envisage life as a widow as widows in Hindu society are somewhat shunned, can no longer marry and have to wear black and white all their lives. Thankfully these practises are disappearing.

We also heard that the mountain people of the villages in the Himalayas often cannot cremate their deceased because there is no wood and they cannot bury them because the ground is frozen. In this case the bodies are cut into pieces and thrown to the nearby vultures!! This we found difficult to stomach.

Here we also saw and visited a Social welfare centre for old and infirm people and went to meet the oldest inhabitant, a woman of 102 who was unfortunately asleep. I walked out feeling humbled once again.
Cremation on the Bagmati river
Afterwards we visited the Durbar Squares at Patan and Kathmandu and saw even more temples. Durbar apparently means "palace" and it seems there is a palace square in every village in Nepal.
Eladio on the Durbar Square of Patan
Durbar Square in Kathmandu
At the former we saw the famous Golden Temple and at the latter we actually saw the Kumari, a living goddess who is 3 years old. She is from the higher Nepalese caste and lives in the Kumari Ghar until puberty. Then she is no longer a Goddess and another one is chosen. She is worshipped by Hindus and Buddhists in the Kathmandu Valley.
She looks out of the window only once a day and we were lucky enough to be there when she did. Quite extraordinary is all I can say. Judge for yourself.
The Kumari, the living goddess
Our last visit of the day was to Swyambhunath, an ancient religious complex on the top of a hill in Kathmandu. It is also known as the monkey temple as there are plenty of them guarding it. We heard earlier from a guide at Boudha Nath that in the Hindu religion there are 4 holy or sacred animals. I only knew about the cow but apparently monkeys, bulls, dogs and snakes are also holy. I thought bulls and cows were in the same category and am surprised about the dogs as they seem like the lowest of the low to me. This was new to me.
Swyambhunath
What I have noticed today is that, although very similar to India, there is slightly less dirt, people tend to use western dress a bit more and that the streets are marginally less noisy. The architecture in Nepal has a Chinese look about it, specially the tiered roofed temples in the Durbar Squares. Contrary to the one low and flat houses you see in India, here they are all made of red brick and have 4 or 5 floors. There is always a terrace at the top which seems to take the place of a garden.

Funnily enough the Nepalese play football, unlike the Indians, although they do play cricket too. Nepal was not part of the British Raj, I think, but was given its independence in 1923. The Nepalese fought with the British Army in the area and are very famous for their tough, hard and resilient Ghurka soldiers.

On the subject of sport or play, Nepal is another great kite flying country like India and Afghanistan. It is also an "early to bed" country to quote the Lonely Planet Guide. And this we experienced as were not able to book a table for dinner past 19.30h.

I like what I have seen of Nepal so far and feel really at home here. I just wish we had more time to go and see Pokhora and to do some trekking. We do have one full day tomorrow though and Mr. Lama will be taking us to see Bhaktapur City and Nagarkot from where we hope to glimpse the Himalayas up close from the ground, although according to Mr. Lama it would take 15 days to walk there. Well, we won’t be doing that.

More tomorrow, from Kathamandu, Masha.

From Agra to Varanasi and the Ganges, the holy city and holy river of India, a humbling experience

Cremating by the Ganges, my most prized photo of India
Hello again,

Today is Tuesday 7th January and day 12 of our fascinating journey in India. Yesterday we left Agra early in the morning to catch the 14.30 plane from Delhi to Varanasi. Our journey was not uneventful as we woke up to intense fog, the pea soup type that used to happen in London. It seems to be a very foggy time here, at least in the North of India and we are fearing it also in Nepal where it will be a real obstacle for seeing Mount Everest I imagine.

It took our driver over an hour to leave Agra, you just could not see further than your nose which is dangerous everywhere but even more so in India because of the traffic and variety of vehicles.

Agra to Delhi is about 300km and our driver said it would take 5 hours. It actually ended up taking nearly 7 as I think he had forgotten to warn us that crossing Delhi would take at least another hour, due, again to its chaotic traffic. Luckily our plane was delayed but had we known that we would have been a lot less worried during our stressful journey. In fact we didn’t leave Indira Ghandi airport until 17.30 and arrived in Varanasi one hour later. Add the hassle of getting your luggage, finding your new driver and getting to the hotel, this meant we didn’t check into the civilized Radisson until past 19h. All we did then yesterday was travel and wind down in our hotel room.

In general our hotels are like a haven from the heavy experience of the noisy and dirty streets where you take refuge to bask in civilisation until you are ready for the outside world again.

I must add here that the terminal we waited at was in a perfectly clean and orderly state, not like the one we flew into. Also I should mention that it was here that we said goodbye to our driver Rajesh who had been with us for 10 days. We were very happy with his services and I was most happy with all I learned from him. Needless to say we gave him a heavy tip.

So we were fresh and ready to visit Varanasi this morning. To help us there was Arthur from the travel agency, Santosh our young and delightful driver and Tariq our Muslim, dark haired and blue eyed guide who was to be my next teacher on things Indian after Rajesh. I learned a lot from Tariq but this knowledge will be the subject of a separate post later.

On our flight we were accompanied by many Buddhist monks and learned that the Dalai Lama was due to be in Varanasi on an official visit from 8th to 14th January. We also learned that Varanasi is not only a pilgrim city for Hindus but also for Buddhists but for another reason. The Buddhists come here to visit Sarnath where Buddha made his first preaching.

Often referred to as Benares, Varanasi is the oldest living city in the world. Mark Twain apparently wrote: "Benaras is older than history” which is now a favourite quote of its inhabitants. The name Varanasi, has its origin possibly from the names of two rivers of its rivers Varuna and Assi, although ironically it is most famous for the river Ganges, or Ganga as it is called in Hindu.

It is also the city of Shiva and has 2 million inhabitants made up of 40% Hindu, 30% Muslim, the rest being Jainists, Buddhists and other religions. It is considered to be the cultural capital of India and houses India’s most important University, some say the most important in Asia; the Banaras Hindu University founded by Pandit Madan Mohan Malaviya in 1916. It is also famous for mango, silk fabric and classical music. We were told that the famous sitar maestro, Pandit Ravi Shankar was born here too.

Our guide first showed us the remains of the Buddhist town of Sarnath and here we saw the Dhamek Stupa where Buddha preached his first sermon to his five disciples. His tomb is here too and this is where many Buddhist pilgrims come. Today of course there were many more because of the Dalai Lama’s visit. Because of the separatism problem of Tibet he now lives in the north of India permanently and many Tibetans have moved there too. We saw quite a few of them today.
A very nice Indian couple from London we met - with Eladio by the Stupa.
From Sarnath our guide took us to see the Moghol (Muslim) part of the city where the artisans make the silk Varanasi is so famous for. This was not a very “nice” area to see but fascinating in its own way, with filthy dark streets and barefoot children begging.
A dark, narrow, dirty and sinister street of Varanasi
I hate to admit that we actually saw a small child defecate in the street. His Mother was 10 feet away preparing their food! Often the artisans were working in the dark as electricity often goes out suddenly here. It actually goes out everywhere in India. Afterwards our guide tried to take us to a few tourist trap selling places where we refused to take the bait.
A typical square or street in Varanassi, not very nice.
From here we went to visit the University which although famous was not particularly interesting. We did see the Shiva temple there but did not find it very different to the many we have already seen during this trip.

It seemed the time to visit the Ganges would never come. Varanasi is most famous, of course for the holy river Ganges for people coming to bathe here and for the cremations that take part here and this is what had attracted us in the first place. There was a boat trip planned for us at 17h but we insisted on going before. Our guide was reluctant but finally gave in and so we drove as near to one of the main ghats as was possible. The rest had to be on foot through filthy dark streets and sinister tunnels. But we made it.

All Indians we learned have 4 mothers; their birth mother, the mother cow, mother India and the Ganges. If you are cremated by the Ganges you go directly to Nibbana or paradise and it seems it is all Hindus’ dream to die or be cremated in Varanasi. In fact many old people in the 90's and 100's come to live by the Ganges to await their death. Soon we were to find out how the cremation takes place.

For me there are a handful of rivers that hold a special attraction and they are the Yangzte in China, the Nile in Egypt, the Mississippi in the United States and the Ganges in India. For me it is a mythological river but for most Indians it is holy and means the eternity of life. Some Hindus also believe life is incomplete without bathing in the Ganga at least once in one's lifetime.

We walked down the steep and long steps of one of the ghats towards the river and took in the picture, a picture that will remain in our heads for a long time. It is difficult to describe. Yes it is dirty, yes it is chaotic with cows, goats and dogs wondering around, the water is filthy, there is no green whatsoever, just a soil shore but yet it touches you. We watched some people bathe in that water and then we walked towards the fires, knowing we were walking towards people being cremated on wood fires.
People bathing in the river Ganges. They must have a lot of faith because I wouldn't bathe there for all the tea in China!
We got closer and closer and became mesmerized. Again, like the visit to the Taj Mahal, I was deeply moved. I shed some tears and watched and watched. Someone gently asked us to move to another spot as apparently we were with the family of one of the deceased. So we moved to a spot where other people were watching. I realised I was the only woman within a very big radius. The Hindu men made way for us to watch the many cremations taking place and we were lucky enough to be able to talk to the man next to us who was there to see his father-in-law cremated. We were not supposed to take photos but this man said that it was alright to do so. So I took the most amazing photo (the one illustrating this post)the most important of our trip to India.

From what we watched and what we were told we found out that the very poor people burn their deceased through burning by electricity and the rest do so with wood at one of the ghats. The wood is expensive, some 200 rupees for 1 kg and 300 kgs are needed. Each fire burns for some 3 hours (poor people take 45 minutes with electricity). The wood is expensive because it comes from some special tree and there is no smell of flesh burning. We, at least, did not smell it.
The cremations - the building with the 2 chimneys (where the electric cremation takes place) houses some of the old people who come here to await their death.
The bodies are prepared and covered with a shroud on a bamboo bed and carried by the family men to the river to be bathed first. Women are not allowed. Our friend told us this was because women were too “soft”! He also told us that when people die the close male members of the family shave their hair and the close female members of the family cut their nails from both their toes and their fingers. Also the funeral proceedings take some 13 days.

After bathing the bodies on the bamboo beds, they are returned to the shore by the ghat and the fire is prepared just like a bonfire. The body placed on it and then it is lit. Then the closest male member of the deceased leads the rest of the mourners round the body 5 times to free the 5 elements from the body so that the soul can go free to Nibbana. The elements are the ones we know; fire, water, air and earth as well as ether (soul?). This closest male member wears a special white cloth. Once the body has burned, he takes water from the Ganges to put out the fire. What does not burn, it seems, is the man’s chest and the woman’s pelvis (the strongest part of their bodies) and these bones are thrown into the river together with the ashes. I think the mourners touch the ashes first.

The only people who cannot be cremated are holy men who are considered already purified in life, children under 12 and pregnant women because of children’s innocence and lepers and people who have been bitten by a cobra snake. The explanation for the latter is too long to go into here. These people, except the ones bitten by the cobra, are sunk in the river with a stone.

As we watched this extraordinary ritual that has been taking place through history, I felt humbled. It is Dantesque but it is not barbaric. It is perfectly understandable and carried out with deep belief and great love.

Later we took our boat ride just before sunset. A young boy sold us flowers with a candle for us to make a wish and leave floating in the river. My wish was to come back to India.
The boy who sold us the flowers to throw in the Ganges
Eladio and I on the boat on the Ganges with our flowers
On our boat ride we saw more ghats and a bigger cremating area. We also witnessed the Ganga Aarti ceremony that takes place every day at 18h to make flower boat offerings and wash away ones’ sins. We learned that cremations take place 24 hours a day and that the fire never goes out in Varanasi.
The Ganga Aarti ceremony
How could the fire go out of such an amazing city and place? It has certainly left a mark on us and we will never forget our experience here.

And tomorrow we leave this amazing city for Kathmandu, another fascinating destination.

Until tomorrow.

Masha

More observations on India, elephant polo, animals, women, village life, more on driving, religious harmony and men’s underwear.

Women working on a building site, quite a common thing to see in India.
Hi again

The other day I wrote a post on my first impressions and observations on India and since then I have been writing all the new ones down in my moleskin. It is 6th January (Kings’ day in Spain) and we are at the Indira Gandhi airport waiting for our flight to the holy city of Varanasi which is delayed for a couple of hours. So this is the perfect opportunity to record these notes in my blog and enrich my travelogue on our fascinating trip to India.

I think I mentioned before that India is not famous for footbal although it is played at an amateur level. The top sport is cricket, a heritage from the times of when India was a British colony. The second sport is also British and it is (grass) hockey. Also polo is played in India but only by the elite as in most countries where it is played. I think that was also introduced by British officers and taken on enthusiastically by the marajahas. But what struck me most is that in India and possibly only in Jaipur, elephant polo is actually played too. The sticks must be very long, if that’s what they are called.

If sport is different in India, so too are their animals, or at least how they live. You don’t need to go to a zoo in India to see un-caged camels, elephants, buffalos, monkeys, peacocks and other exotic birds, donkeys, cows (everywhere), oxen, goats, pigs, sheep, horses and dogs. Dogs seem to be the lowest of the low as they are nearly always stray and don’t belong to anyone.
Camels are a part and parcel of India, whether they be for work or play.
Monkeys run free in India.
Women do not seem as repressed as in Middle Eastern countries and are more respected. Men do still rule though. At least in the countryside and poorer areas women often cover their faces with a nearly transparent veil but have no problem in lifting it if need be. The latter dress very colourfully, mixing bright colours and shiny material and are an attractive sight. Most women wear the national dress, the saree or the trouser and long top with a shawl (don’t know its name).
Women in their colourful sarees shopping in a rural town.
In some areas of Rajasthan they use piercing heavily and they have a chain between the nose and the mouth or even big rings on their noses.

You see women constantly riding pillion on the back of motorbikes and they always ride side saddle, never cross their legs and sit on the seat. Possibly this is because you can’t do this with a saree but I also suspect it is a sign of femininity.

Women work alongside men on building sites everywhere, mainly shovelling rubble and then carrying it away on big plastic bowls on their heads. They look absolutely miserable and I feel sorry for them. Those loads on their heads are extremely heavy.
Women working on a building site and carrying rubble on their heads
In the countryside it is the women you see working in the fields or carrying water on their heads in the streets. The men are often sitting around in groups playing cards or talking and smoking, frequently lying on a sort of bed without a mattress on the side of the streets. I asked my driver why they had their beds outside and he said they were not beds but places for doing business. It looked to me they were more for relaxing.

It struck me too, as I wrote before, that human and animal life inter connect. Sometimes I saw people whose lives resembled animals’ lives, so poor and dirty was their existence. This was mainly in the villages. Many times the villages looked like they had been bomb shelled because of the rubble and rubbish tips but also because many of the roofs of the “houses” were just gaping holes. That’s possibly because the material they are made of, dry cow flap, wore away in the monsoons. Who knows? People live in canvas tents but often they live in tents they have made from straw. How can this be possible in 2009?

Driving is crazy in India, vehicles coming and going in the wrong direction even on motorways so I wondered whether people had to take their test here. Oh yes said Rajesh but I learned that it is only practical. There is no theory test. Is this because many people are illiterate or because there are no rules and hardly any signs? Who knows? People driving practically never use the indicator, they just blow their horn insistently. The noise is most annoying.

There are many road tolls and I wonder what people are paying for as the roads are so bad, but of course the systems brings in money for the government. Often there are 3 or 4 people manning the checkpoint and taking the money and one person manually lifts the barrier. It is funny to see a big green sign showing who is exempt from paying the toll: the military, the police and the President of India amongst others!

I have learned a little about Hinduism and Jainism. In Nepal I will be learning about Buddhism. But I had a burning question for Rajesh, our driver and my main teacher on Indian life. How do Hindus and Moslems get on in India? I asked a few other people too, our Hindi guide, Disi, at the Taj Mahal and our Moslem guide, Yussuf, in Mandawa. Their answers were categorical. “Fine” and in harmony. They ventured to say that the problem was mostly at a political level. I cannot comment here just observe. What I did observe also was an animosity towards Pakistan, but then that is public knowledge.

To end on a funny note, the other day I mentioned billboards and outdoor advertising. I said that I mostly saw cement and mobile phones advertised on the roads. Since then I have noticed that men’s underwear is also heavily advertised. Does this mean men need to be advertised to wear underwear??

That’s all for the moment folks.

Cheers from the Indira Gandhi airport in New Delhi
Masha

From Udaipur to Jaipur, the pink city and a hotel fit for a King, on the road from Jaipur to Agra and the Taj Mahal, the world famous monument of love

Hi again,

This post covers days 8, 9 and 10 of our Indian adventure which means we are already half way through it. Our experiences are so intense that time literally flies.

On Saturday 3rd January we drove from Udaipur to Jaipur which was to be our longest drive, 408 km. Jaipur was our driver Rajesh Sharma’s home town so I’m sure he was looking forward to sleeping at home and seeing his family.

Thankfully the road was better than other days. Nearly as soon as we had left Udaipur we stopped to see the Nagda or Sas-Bahu Temples (meaning Mother and Daugther-in-laws) built or finished in the 10th century. Today they are ruins as they were partially destroyed by the Moghols. There seems to be some connection with the famous Karma Sutra as a lot of the sculptures are copulatin or in erotic positions. We semi understood from a guide that the Karma Sutra was written or promoted amongst people who were becoming too religious and not reproducing. If this is the case, it certainly worked!!!

We drove through marble and granite stone country and stopped briefly at a town called Bhim, a poor dusty location on the road. Here we observed the usual outside market where rural people bring in fruit and vegetable to sell. Of course we also saw the usual rows of tiny little shops and the inevitable barber or seamstress.
The smiling seamstress of Bhlim.
Approaching Jaipur from Udaipur you turn onto what is supposed to be a new motorway. It is not finished so often you have to take a diversion and then come back on. People go faster on the motorway but you often find the odd motorcycle or even car driving in the wrong direction which is incredibly scary. Also the motorways have divided some villages and so people end up crossing the motorway at a terrible risk.

We had a hitch with the hotel in Jaipur. We were supposed to be staying at the Savista Hotel which turned out to be totally unacceptable. So after some wrangling with the travel agency we were finally booked into what turned out to be the best in town, at our own expense I am sorry to say. So after more hassling and frightening traffic in the Pink City as Jaipur is known because of the colour of its walls, we checked in to the marvellous Samode Haveli Hotel.

There we entered civilization and a true oasis of the city. The Samode Haveli is an old palace dating possibly 400 years. That was our best experience so far in Indian hotels.

The next day, Sunday 4th January our driver took us to the famous Fort of Jaipur, the Amber Fort. We stopped to take pictures of the view half way through the climb only to be met by snake charmers. They are supposedly very typical in India but this was our first experience.
Eladio and the snake charmers in Jaipur on the way up to the Fort.
Our next experience was to be an elephant ride up to the Fort Palace, just below the fort. Here we could hardly enjoy it as were literally plagued by street vendors who wouldn’t leave us alone until we took the bait. Eladio bought a tacky turban in which he actually looks great.
Eladio stroking our elephant, "Nuri", after the ride.
On our way back from the Fort we stopped by the reservoir to take a photo of the beautiful Water Palace. From here, we drove back into the centre to see the Observatory called the Jantar-Mantar and then the City Palace. We visited the palace quickly and then went in search of the markets. Our driver, preferring to take us to his friends’ places where he has a commission, tried to make us understand the markets were closed because it was Sunday. This was not actually the case. In Jaipur we bought baggy trousers for the girls, some very pretty embroidered parasols and yet more pashminas, or rather colourful shawls.

After our shopping we stopped to take a quick photo of the incredible Wind Palace and then went to the travel agency, Real Incredible India to pay for the 2 nights in Jaipur (no reimbursement for not staying at the Savista) and to pick up our flight e-tickets and hotel vouchers for the rest of our stay.

From Jaipur we made our way to the Samode Palace (different to the Samode Haveli in the city but belonging to the same owners). This was to be our best night throughout our whole trip. Here we were given one of the 4 royal suites! This time it was me who did a bit of cheating, but for a good cause, of course. We told them that this trip was to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary and they asked if it was that day. I was naughty and lied and said it was. That’s when we got upgraded to the royal suite. Later we were to find a cake in our room on a yellow petal filled tray and champagne for breakfast. We could not have asked for more.
The Samode Palace near Jaipur, a hotel fit for a king.
The Samode Palace hotel is at least 40km from Jaipur and takes over an hour to get there. It is not a secret place at all as we find out a lot of famous people retreat there. When I signed the guest book I found I was signing after the French Ambassador in India! The place is a wonder of a palace nestling in the mountains with a labyrinth of rooms and courtyards as well as marvellous frescoed halls as befits a palace built by a king.

Our suite was wonderful with its own patio and outside Jacuzzi, fireplace, coffee maker, huge flat screened tv, music centre, four poster bed and wonderful drapery. Will we ever go back? You never know. But if anyone reading this ever goes to India, I urge you to stay there. You will not be disappointed. The Tatler magazine rates it the 5th best hotel in the world and the Tatler magazine is a tough judge.

So reluctantly after our champagne breakfast, we had to leave early this morning for Agra which was 300km away.

On the road we were to see the usual vehicles but also trucks carrying farmers who were taking milk or cauliflowers to be sold in the markets of Jaipur.

And then we were to have one of the most interesting experiences of our trip. It seemed we were going to be passing very near our driver Rajesh Sharma’s home outside Jaipur and he wanted to stop off to pick up something and, of course, show us his house and introduce us to his wife, Bimila, and his daughter aged 25, Simpal. We were felt very privileged and found it interesting to see inside an Indian home. It was small and modest but well kept. It was fascinating to see the altar to the Hindu Gods and the huge portrait of Gamesha. Rajesh told us his sweet wife prays 2 hours every morning! We had tea in their bedroom cum lounge and were offered biscuits. It was a lovely experience.
Rajesh and his wife and daughter, Bimila and Simpal.
Soon we left Jaipur. Jaipur, a city of 2.5m inhabitants seems to be the most advanced and prosperous place we have seen so far; although the same squalor and poverty coexists. Here there are brand new big “malls”, big brand shops, traffic police (at times), some supermarkets and new designer multi storey flats. I asked Rajesh what a 100m2 flat in one of these new blocks could cost and after a lot of calculations I think the price is around 80.000 euros, a fortune for India.

The road from Jaipur to Agra is better than many others we have encountered. Here we went past stone cutting industries, brick production with awful polluting chimneys, mustard fields and then cow flap production (from drying to using as building material!).

Nearing Agra we left Rajasthan and entered a new state, Uttar Pradesh. As soon as we had gone through the red pillars indicating this, a man stopped us on the road waving a stick. Here it seemed we had to pay the tax for entering the new state. The total sum was 500 rupees for one day only, quite a lot again for India and a great way of making money for the state.

About 30km away from Agra, the road was suddenly blocked and we had to turn back. It was nearly 3 pm and we were in a rush to see the Taj Mahal before sunset. It turned out there had been an accident on the nearby motorway and 3 people had been killed which, given what we had already seen, was no surprise. Apparently the villagers were making charms against these deaths and we could not get through.

The next hour and a half was a total adventure and an insight into what is probably a life, if you can call it a life, not much different from the stone age! After waiting for ages at a level crossing for 2 trains to come past, we ventured into the most rural roads and areas we had seen so far. This seemed like the centre of the cow flap industry. The road when it had tarmac which wasn’t often was eternal and it seemed we would never reach Agra. We went through the poorest villages we had seen so far and with our heart in our hands finally reached Agra very much affected by the intense experience.

In Agra the guide Rajesh had organised for us, Disi, was waiting for us. For a reason to do with shorter queues at another entrance, we were whisked into a “toto” taxi to another gate for 30 rupees (less than 50 Euro cents!).
Eladio on the "toto" taxi in Agra
Here we bought the tickets for a scandalous 750 rupees when Indian only pay 10! Disi guided us through the entrance to the main red archway and here he found us another money making person, one of the non official photographers who gives you the photo prints after the visit. You are in their hands as it is really difficult to get good photos because there are so many people.

As we walked through the red arch, I saw for the first time the world famous monument to love and one of the 7 marvels of the world. And you know, I nearly cried. No other building in the world has ever had that affect on me. It is captivating and more beautiful than you can ever imagine.

The story of its building is equally beautiful. In short it was dedicated to love when the Emperor Shah Jahan tragically lost the love of his life, his wife, the Queen Mumtaz Mahal. She was extraordinarily beautiful and bore him 14 children. She made him promise 3 things: that he would look after their 14 children, that he would never remarry after her death and that he would build a mausoleum for her. Mad with grief and sadness when she died he vowed to build the most beautiful building the world would ever have. And so he did because for many people, and certainly for me, there can be no more beautiful, wonderful or magical a building in the world.

People come from all over the world to visit it and it is the heart and symbol of India, together with Mahatma Gandhi. And these two are the main reasons we came to India. We have not been disappointed.

Tomorrow we leave Agra for Delhi which is a five hour drive. At 14.30 we take the flight to the sacred and holy city of Varanasi (Benares) by the river Ganges, the holy river of India and for me one of the most fascinating rivers in the world. It will be possibly the most difficult part of our trip, owing to the filth and poverty. We hope, however, to be enlightened by its mystery and spirituality.

We will see.

Masha

Observations of India and the Indian way of life where nothing is the same and birds are green and carrots are red.

A typical row of shops
Hi again,

We are now half way into our Indian adventure and so the time has come for my reflections and observations; very subjective and personal and not always correct because to understand India you would have to know the language and stay here for some time as with any culture and country.

But I must say I begin to understand how some westerners can fall in love with Indian and “go native”. What bugs me most, however, is that I don’t know who I can trust so I end up not trusting anyone and that is sad.

To start off India is cheap when you are not being cheated. To prove this, our laundry of at least 9 garments cost 250 rupees at our last stop in Udaipur. That is about 5 euros! It was done in less than one day and beautifully folded. You wouldn’t get that in the west.

So who owns India? The most prominent brand of all is “Tata” which is a company that makes everything and anything from lorries to cars, to big engineering works, hotels (the Taj Hotel group is theirs) to batteries, to mobile phones to water; all big money making machine products in India. Tata is also the company that bought Jaguar recently causing a big stir in the UK.

You nearly only see Tata cars in this country, the odd Ford and some Japanese makes but nothing else. I have seen only 2 Mercedes since I have been here and not one BMS. This makes you think Tata has the monopoly which it probably does.

Regarding mobile phones, you see them everywhere. I read that there are at least 300 million users, nearly a quarter of the population and this is growing fast. Not for nothing Vodafone is probably the second most prominent brand I have seen. In every village and roadside row of shops, there is Vodafone. You see people using them riding their bicycles and there is no restriction of their use in cars, unlike in the west. The models the people use are quite basic and everyone who sees my N95 begs to touch it and take a photo. They go ooh and aah at the 8 gigabytes and 5 megapixels. The Indians certainly know about technology and have a hunger for it.

Talking about brands and branding, there is hardly any outdoor advertising with global brands which is great, at least for me because I hate it. I consider it visual contamination. The only outdoor advertising you see, at least in the country, is of products like cement. In the towns I actually saw a bill board promoting the coil. Well, that’s not surprising because of the huge population, I suppose.

Going back to vehicles, this is what you see on the Indian roads: numerous noisy and colourful lorries, buses packed with people like in the films, cars and jeeps, motorbikes with anything up to 5 people riding, “totos”, the motorbike run car which is often a taxi, tractors with loads of people on them, bicycles, rick shaws, horses and carriages, donkeys and carriages, camel carts and finally elephants.
A jeep full of people. Notice how the lady's face is covered and the child is at the front; no seat belts of course.
The driving is simply mad and has no system or so I thought. But actually it does. There is hardly any traffic police and practically no traffic signs. People overtake from the right and from the left and no one seems to mind. The maximum speed is 100 km/h but of course no one can drive that fast with all the above vehicles on the road, unless you go on the very few motorways. Then the cars go at any speed they want. But often they have to slow down or nearly crash to stop in time for a cow to pass or even a whole herd of goats!!

Driving on the roads in India, from what I’m beginning to understand, consists of overtaking whilst you blow your horn, irrespective of who and what vehicle is coming towards you. It seems the former has more right of way. There are also very few sign posts on the road which would make it very difficult for an foreigner to drive here. Thank God for our driver. Nearly all foreigners use a driver to get around India. It cost about 40 euros a day all in and of course for a group that works out really cheap.

India is dirty, it’s full of squalor and misery and poverty. You can’t get away from it. It’s everywhere. The countryside is extraordinarily primitive and rural.

Cows graze in the rubbish which lies everywhere. I have yet to see a dustbin. I did read in the Hindustan Times an advertisement for dwellers in Delhi to try to keep the city clean (mission impossible) and one of the pieces of advice was to use dust bins!

The pigs also graze in the rubbish. I hadn’t seen pork on the menus but later learned from our driver that it is eaten by the lower castes, probably the Sudra. Coming from Europe, I can’t come to heads with a country whose people are poor and hungry but won’t eat the meat from cows or pigs when there are plenty of the latter.

India is all about castles, palaces, forts and temples and we have had our fill of the latter as we must have seen more than 10 since we have been here. On the contrary to the towns and streets and people, the temples are spotlessly clean and looked after. I just wish the people could be looked after in the same way.

Housing is nearly always flat roofed. Not everyone seems to live in a house as you see people living in tents (mostly gypsies) or even on the streets and roads. Consequently you see people washing themselves anywhere they can find water. There is luxury housing too but not much.

Shopping is also different from the west. As I have mentioned before, India is filled with rows and rows of tiny purpose built shops, often not measuring more than 2m2 by 2m2. You hardly see any shopping centres or “malls” although I think they are coming to India. As to supermarkets, they too, are few and far between. I once read that if the big global hypermarkets or department stores were to hit India they would put the large population of small Indian shop keepers out of work. That’s probably true.

Education seems important to India. You see schools and colleges and universities everywhere. You also see children going to school and back, walking miles along the road, all dressed in the same uniform, a blue shirt and beige trousers. There are many more boys than girls. You also see children who don’t go to school and this is quite frequent because of child labour which you see everywhere.

People speak English everywhere, some good and some pigeon. You even hear Indians talking English together which I find very strange. I hear from our travel agent here that this is because they like “to show off”. That surprises me. They also know other languages, often Spanish, French and Italian. They obviously learn them to sell to the tourists. They always ask where you are from so’s to know which language to sell to you in. I got so tired of their hassling today that I answered I was from the Czech Republic!! Oh did they laugh, me too.

Any my observations finish today, at least, with some small lessons I learned about religion which is predominant in India.

Apparently of the 3 Gods of the Hindu “trinity”, Brahma (of the four faces), Vishnu (of the many arms) and Shiva, the reincarnations only came from Vishnu. He had 9 reincarnations of which Buddha was the last; the Buddha the Buddhists admire. One of the most popular Gods is Ganesha, the half man half elephant God, son of Shiva. He is the God of success, of wisdom and of education. He is also, apparently, the remover of obstacles. Maybe I will start praying to him too to remove any in my life!! I saw a very funny sign the other day which said “Do your best, Ganesha will do the rest”.
Ganesha
I wrote about “holy ladies” dressed in white the other day. I later learned they are of the minority Jain religion which does not believe in any creator God but rather thinks the soul is potentially divine. There are some 10 million followers in India. They preach non violence and non possession. They obviously take the latter to the brink as we saw a procession of Jain men on the road and the one at the front was completely naked.
Women working on a building site at a tourist attraction, the Amber Fort at Jaipur
As you see nothing in India is the same. Even the fruit and vegetables are different. And would you believe carrots are red and not orange? I even saw a bright green bird the other day. India is colourful and fascinating, but poor and lacking in infrastructure, decent drains and roads and something has to be done about the homeless. For a tourist it’s great. You visit wonderful palaces where I find it more fascinating to snap the women working, carrying heavy loads of stones and rubble than the pictures of the old marajahs.

That’s all for tonight.
Cheers Masha